imakito oku | watermelon way

Poetry Dispatch No.100 | August 29, 2006

Watermelon Way by Imakitō Oku

summer red hot
cold melon
Bashō’s green smile

◘

man hefts
watermelon…
heavy belly

◘

knock, knock…
hello hollow darkness,
my sweet friend

◘

watermelons:
Made
in Japan

◘

man lifting striped melon
grins…
color of my old pajamas

◘

if you see the melon-belly
on the road,
bite the Buddha.
◘

red watermelon
weeping…
cold hands

◘

round
green Buddha
on my shoulder

◘

scrunch slice
swallow seed,
in you–haiku

◘

Bashō floats
in the green temple,
dreams red

◘

ninety-six degrees
red melon
her sweet lips

◘

on the wide road
to the deep south,
Bashō opens watermelon

◘

nibbling kisses
wet sweet mouth,
black teeth—spit, spit, spit…

◘

moonless night–
a knife thrust deep
in the belly of the Buddha

◘

pale melon, white seed
bitter rind
love gone

◘

pink water stain,
empty plate,
autumn wind

◘

garden compost, late November
broken melons under snow,
seeds make way…

from BROKEN WATER, Tokyo: Yamada, 1963

About these ads